


Misguided Intentions

by QueenOf_Neverland, ScaledWolf



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, M/M, bottom!Keith
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2018-10-28 07:06:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10826274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOf_Neverland/pseuds/QueenOf_Neverland, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaledWolf/pseuds/ScaledWolf
Summary: Doing the right thing isn't always easy, especially when you've been doing the wrong thing almost your whole life. When an Altean prince is captured by Zarkon, one special Galra is given the task of interrogating the prisoner. Just routine. Too bad fate has something else in mind for the two supposed enemies.





	Misguided Intentions

Routine. That's all it came down to. Every day, it was the same thing on this ship. Get up, get ready, wait for orders, interrogate prisoners, and then go to bed. Sure, there are breaks to eat and chat, but it was almost always the same basic droll day after day. All of this boring stuff for the glory of the Galra Empire.

"Vrepit sa.." the Galra soldier said quietly as he poked his fork into the food on his tray, sighing with disinterest in the food that his tongue had become used to tasting. Though the cafeteria was mostly full, all the boy could hear was his own thoughts.

Suddenly, the clatter of multiple trays setting down around him forced his yellow eyes to look up as he sat up straight. The sight of the soldier's comrades made him smile, though it did not feel genuine. Just routine.

"Hey there, shrimp!" came the booming voice of the largest Galra at the table, elbowing the teen hard as the others laughed along. "How's the youngest recruit?"

Same as yesterday.

Though his side now hurt, he ignored the pain as he was trained to do. "Fine, Alkor. Actually, I was just finishing up." the soldier stated as his smile disappeared, standing from his seat and lifting his tray. "Lord Zarkon is expecting me early today."

"Ah, you're no fun!" Alkor exclaimed, though his cocky grin and low chuckle suggested that he could care less before he turned back to his food. "Whatever. Better not keep his highness waiting."

With a quiet sigh of relief, the Galra went to toss his tray before leaving the area, walking quickly towards his destination. Finally, he was left alone once again with his thoughts. His doubts.

***********************

Faster than he had hoped, the boy found himself outside of Zarkon's throne room and command center. He stood still, staring at the doors for a moment before looking to the guards and nodding to them. They were quick to let him in, but he was slow to walk in. Upon reaching the spot in front of his emperor, the boy knelt down with his head lowered respectfully. "You wished to see me early, sire?" the soldier asked, his eyes focused on his hand resting on the floor.

"Yes." came the simple answer from Zarkon, though just the sound of his voice was enough to make the small Galra shiver. "I have a special job for you. More important than any previous that I have asked of you. Are you up to the task?"

"I am simply here to serve the Empire, my Lord. I will do all I can to please you." he answered, lifting his gaze to meet that of his leader's. "What is it you ask of me?"

Zarkon sat unmoving as he answered the young soldier's question. "We have successfully captured the Altean prince. I need you to interrogate him. Break him, and get the information I desire." the tyrant demanded, his voice harsh as his eyes narrowed. 

"As you wish it, sire. Vrepit sa!" he exclaimed before standing and making his way out of the large room. As the doors closed behind him, a quiet sigh escaped his mouth, but began to make his way back to his room where the prisoner was likely to be.

Alone with his thoughts once again, he walked at a fast pace. A prince isn't usually routine. Especially an Altean prince. The thought of this change excited the soldier. A smirk showed his sharp canines and his ears were perked as he stood in front of his door. Only a moment passed before he took a breath, walking in as the door opened. 

Tied to the bed was an exhausted, but still struggling, white-haired boy, his clothes torn in multiple places to show lightly bleeding claw marks. The boy could feel his smirk grow as he gazed at his prisoner, locking the door as it closed behind him.

"Well, well, well~ I must say that it is an honor," he began, grabbing the attention of the royal as he bowed slightly before straightening again. "Prince Keith~" The Galra ran a hand through his slicked back hair as he formed a gun using his index finger and thumb with the other hand.

"The name's Lance~"


End file.
